Wild Cards
by Necessary Chocolate
Summary: Mostly unconnected drabbles based off of Wild Mass Guesses and the 100 Theme Challenge. Memory: Sometimes, Perry misses being human. It's the memories that get him.
1. Introduction

Author's Note: The 100 Theme Challenge, applied to Wild Mass Guesses taken from TV Tropes? Sold.  
>I hit two different WGMs with this one.<br>Word Count: 663

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><p>#1 (<em>Introduction<em>)

"Welcome, Carl, to the OWCA." The major gestured at the door, pointing to the little box thing with a grid on it and the outline of a hand. The eighteen year old reached forward, knowing exactly what to do (he'd watched enough movies), but paused. "Well?" Monogram gave him an annoyed look.

"I'm left-handed." The hand on the grid was for right hands.

"It doesn't matter. Just use your right hand."

The door slid open and the new intern followed the major into the building. He nervously scratched at his hair, hoping that these agents would like him. In his past part-time jobs and internships, there'd been a lot of annoying people. It was a lot harder to work with people who didn't like him, even if he was only going to be Major Monogram's cameraman.

Except he was so lucky to have been assigned to the OWCA. They didn't normally have collage interns. He'd work with whoever to keep this internship (and collage credit).

They walked down a long hallway, their footsteps (or at least the older man's) echoing off the walls. Carl continued to fidget.

"What kind of name is Carl Karl?" He said suddenly, scaring the crap out of the new intern.

"My name, sir."

He didn't ask any further questions. But Carl did. "So how does the OWCA train their agents?" He was still stuck with the image of men and woman in too fancy suits with gadgets to fit any situation.

Of course, Carl was not expecting a platypus.

"And here's our top agent."

"Where?"

A confused look crossed the man's face. "Here. This is agent P."

The animal was suddenly standing on his back feet, a hat on his head. Carl did a double-take. Agent P tipped his hat at the intern before running off.

"Are all the agents animals?"

"All the feild ones."

"Are they all so... human-like?" There had been way too much intelligence in that platypus's eyes.

He nodded. "Some used to be human, too." He said thoughtfully. "Actually, most of our best agents used to be human, but that's another topic, for another time."

Major Monogram typed a code next to yet another door, not letting Carl see it, and when the door swung open, he was greeted by smiling faces in lab coats. Monogram practically pushed Carl into the room before following, ignoring how Carl stumbled forward.

"How many scientists does this place have?" Carl glanced around, amazed. There were amazing things in every corner, from whatsits that he couldn't name and huge computers and small computers. It was a geek's paradise.

"Six." He cleared his throat. The number seemed hilariously small compared to the massive amount of room. "Actually, only five _competent _ones."

"Hey! I _heard_ that!" A new voice exclaimed. It took Carl a moment to place the accent as he turned around in time to see Monogram glaring at a slouched-over scientist with a messy lab-coat and a nose that seemed too oddly shaped to be real. (But then again, Major Monogram's nose took up half his face)

"I'm plenty competent."

"You can't even come up with a name other than 'inator'." He remembered Carl was here a moment later. "The intelligent ones are Onassis, she's the blonde one over by the largest computer, Shaw and Otter, who have the day off-"

"You're forgetting me!" That same scientist was back in his face. Monogram stepped around him.

"And Sweetwater's somewhere around here, and-"

"Me! I'm here!"

Monogram sighed, exasperated. "And _he's_ Doofenshmirtz, the one who can't do anything."

Doofenshmirtz glared at him.

"This way, Carl."

Carl could vaguely hear the scientist (who Major Monogram had something against, that much was obvious) mumbling as they walked away.

It sounded suspiciously like "This will be a backstory one day".

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><p>Like it? Hate it? I don't care. :D<br>Mistakes? Tell me, constructive criticism is always nice.


	2. Poison

She was a poison. Seeping into his blood, his mind, taking over.

A sweet poison, certainly, but she was clouding his judgement and his morals - or his _lack_ of morals. That specific lack of morals made why he still chased after her make no sense, despite her being the elder sister to the two most well-liked people in Danville. Which was the only reason, at first. It was a _rule_ in their family. You don't get close to someone, you don't admit that you're from a secret organization until they're completely in love with you. And you don't let feelings get caught up in schemes. But Candace was different.

He didn't _get_ it. Really. She was neurotic, borderline insane, but he still... he _enjoyed_ spending time with her. Talking to her, holding her hand, just watching TV, and he was _happy_. Which was not what he'd planned. And... she was really messing with his morals. He felt... _bad_ about acting around her. He was... dare he mention it... guilty. He felt _guilty_ about using her to get to her brothers at first. Guilt! The one emotion that should never plague the Johnson family. So most of it was acting.

He really had no idea who he was, only that he was patient enough to deal with Doofenshmirtz and his alien ideas while teaching him guitar (have _you_ ever tried that? Your patience would likely run out) and to deal with Candace's slight stalker tendencies. Which he realized, was still creepy, but it didn't bother him so much anymore. They had to be careful. Very, very careful. Candace was already very in love with him, but they were teenagers. He could hardly explain that they wanted to rule the world (that sounds so much worse then it actually is) to a semi-neurotic teenage girl, who was likely to stop liking him in the next few years.

He hated that the idea bothered him so much. He shouldn't've let anything get this far. He should've watched himself more, and not let himself fall. But it doesn't work like that. A person has no control over what they're poisoned will (unless... but that's an entirely different thing) or, really, who poisons them.

The worst part was that she has _no idea_. Not even an inkling. Candace believed - well, mostly believed - that he liked her as much as she liked him. She didn't get that she'd been one of few people to cause him to feel guilty. The only other people who'd done that were his mother, mostly in a lesson on guilt-tripping people, and sometimes Suzy, and once his father before the guy vanished.

They weren't completely evil.

Jeremy glanced at his girlfriend. After a moment, she met his eyes and grinned, grabbing his hand.

_Stupid sweet poisonish feeling_. When he smiled, he wasn't acting.

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><p>For Number Two: Poison. :D<br>This is one of my favorite WGM's, that the Johnson family is secretly evil. You want hints? Look up the TV tropes page. But really, this one makes some sense and to me, it makes Jeremy a much more interesting character, beyond the "perfect boyfriend" role he has.

Word Count: 513


	3. Love

_**3. (Love)**_

Phoenix was just plain bright.

Not only in intelligence – he seemed a little above-average on that aspect, but he was kind and sweet, and knew just how to brighten a room and make people laugh. He liked pranks, too, elaborate, Rube Goldberg-type pranks that no matter what made people laugh, even whoever was pranked. In a few simple words, he was the love of Linda's life for the longest time.

He was a singer – a rock star, of sorts, who played a little guitar and drums (he was horrible at the drums, but he still played them at times) and sang. His voice was deep and kind of scratchy at points, but instead of messing up the lyrics, it sometimes made it even better. He poured real emotion into his music, and wrote his own songs. Tiana was probably his biggest fangirl back when she was thirteen and Linda was twenty. It didn't help that her older sister was dating the guy, which led to a lot of picture-taking and embarrassing questions, because Tiana liked to pry when she was little.

Phoenix was his real name, not just his stage name. It was Greek; apparently he was named after his grandfather. Telling her friends that she was dating (and later, marrying) a guy named Phoenix was a strange affair, until they met him and got to know him better.

She loved him. But at times like this, she really wanted to smack him.

"We're going to have a baby!" He shouted at Linda's family's Christmas party – four months after they married – much to the shock of his wife and her family, until he started laughing and said he was kidding. "I just wanted to get everyone's attention, to say I'm going to be an architect. But yeah, we're still trying anyways."

"Do you have any ideas for names?" Tiana jumped in, grinning.

"We aren't naming him Phoenix." The former rock star stated. "That leads to a lot of teasing. Especially if he has red hair." Which was pretty inevitable, since both he and Linda had red hair. Different shades, sure, but red all the same. "We really haven't been talking about it much."

"Because nothing has happened yet." Linda glared at her husband, who only laughed and hugged her close. "That was supposed to be private."

"They're our family, Lin." He whispered back, too low for anyone else to hear. Then, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I was thinking Betty, after you, Mrs. Flynn. Or Gertrude, after my mother."

"You're worried about Phoenix, but not Gertrude?" Tiana wrinkled her nose. "How about Candace? After Grandma?"

Phoenix considered it while idly running a hand through Linda's hair. "Candace Gertrude." Linda snorted. "It sounds kind of…"

"I like it," Phoenix threw in, grinning. "Candace Betty? Betty Candace? Gertrude Candace—"

"You seem certain we're going to name our daughter Candace. What if we have a son?"

"Candace is a unisex name…" He trailed off, obviously kidding. "Clyde? If we have a son?"

"What about your dad?"

"What's so bad about Clyde?" Clyde roared with laughter, unable to keep up an annoyed look on his face for more than a few seconds. Tiana joined in, and soon everyone was laughing. Phoenix said something Linda missed, and the laughter grew. Without really wondering why, Linda did, too, and she'd never been so glad as to not be Lindana anymore. So many stars went down the drain, losing their family and friends, everyone they once loved. Not all of them, but plenty did.

"I love you," Phoenix whispered in her ear, surprising her and shaking her from her thoughts. She smiled.

He always knew how to brighten things up, even if they were already bright to begin with.

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><p>This one was... weird. It kind of bothers me for some reason, and I'm a little defensive about posting it.<p>

Word Count: 669 (eventually, they'll get longer. /shrug)

WMGs: Phineas's & Candace's dad was a musician/was Greek (both Candace & Phineas are Greek in origin)/ was an architect (I hinted at this one, barely.)

Why Phoenix? Because it sounds similar to Phineas and fit the whole same-sound first and last name before I realized that Flynn seems to be Linda's maiden name. So I didn't give him a last name. Plus, Phoenix would be cool as a stage name. There's probably been someone with that name, but of well. (And yes, it's a real name. :D)

Fun Fact: Firefox tried to correct "Pranking" to "Planking" and I am now annoyed. :\


	4. Seeing Red

_Word Count: 1,439_ (See, I said they'd get longer!)

This is a less Canon-Altering WMG, but it makes sense to me and I like it.

I'd like to quickly thank the reviewers who pointed out my mistakes. Thanks! And if there's any more - tell me, please, so I can fix them.

By the way, I'd love to hear any ideas you guys have for me. :D****

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><p><strong><em>#86 (Seeing Red)<em>**

"I want to go _home_." Django snapped, crossing his arms and glaring out the window of the car. He refused to admit that he was pouting, because teenage boys didn't pout. Every summer was like this. For the first week (sometimes two, and there was that one year where it was three weeks) he'd goof around with his _friends_, Phineas, Ferb, Isabella and the rest of them, and then he'd go traveling with his dad. Beppo Brown was an artist, known for his over-sized recreations of everyday objects – many that could work. During summer, they were on the move.

Usually the summer was punctuated by two visits home. The first one was always in time for the annual Sci-Fi and Fantasy Convention, and the other was just a quick hello to everyone before they were off once again.

This was normal for him since he started kindergarten. Beppo loved traveling, talking to other artists and getting feedback on his work, but his son's school was important. Summer was the time he could travel – Django had no one who could watch him, and Beppo wasn't the type to just dump his son on someone and go off to travel.

But as soon as Phineas and Ferb were old enough to pick up tools and blueprints, he'd return home to hear all about the amazing things they did over the summer. Some of the more sheltered kids believed they were crazy, but plenty of them knew it was true. Not that Phineas and Ferb bragged. Django was usually invited to join them on the days he was still there.

He felt like he was missing out.

Every trip would have one tantrum from him, sometimes two in the recent years, since this made his dad happy, but he wasn't. Beppo was on cloud nine during the trips, and it didn't go unnoticed by his only son, so he swallowed his annoyance and left it at that. He was luckier than most – who else had seen both coasts, Yellowstone and the Lincoln Memorial and all the stops between by the time they were thirteen? And his dad was an _artist_. Isabella had laughed at that once when he pointed it out, saying "So much for the starving artist myth" and then everyone was laughing.

He felt guilty when he started to get angry, even worse when he started to almost hate the end of school because it meant a week of seeing his friends followed by two months of people he didn't care about (sans his dad. Django loved his father.) with only a few calls between.

At this moment, he didn't care too much.

His dad sighed, turning the ignition. "You can drive, if you want to." But he couldn't. His permit was back at the hotel, Django's own fault, but it was just more bitter icing on the cake. He scowled.

Beppo didn't say anything, and after a long moment of silence, where more guilt started to creep into the anger, the artist stepped on the gas and pulled out of the institute.

The day had started off normally, with hotel breakfast (he ate two doughnuts before Beppo came down from the room and made sure he ate a _real_ breakfast) and a quick swim while his father made sure everything was packed. Their next stop was a good seven hours away, but at least he could draw (on the smoother roads) or listen to his music player with the car charger.

But then Baljeet had given him a call. Django liked Baljeet – he was nerdy and shy most of the time, but he was nice and had moments where he was funny. They shared a love of science-fiction and crime shows, but his mood plummeted when the other teenager said goodbye. He mumbled something about having to go – Phineas and Ferb were building some new, huge, amazing thing that Django couldn't recall now, without realizing that it would ruin the day for the teen on the other side of the phone.

He was missing out. _Again_.

He calmed down as the day went on, but he couldn't stop thinking about what his friends were doing back home. Then, at the institute, some snotty art critic had insulted Beppo and his artwork – claiming it wasn't _real_ art, and he'd snapped.

Critics were a part of life, and most of the time they didn't even make Beppo glance twice at them. He liked critique, but if it was obvious that they were only going to insult him, he didn't bother. As a child, Django would childishly argue with them, calling them stupid and idiots because they didn't like his dad. Now, he tried harder to not do that. But this woman, with her too-snide look and her nose permanently in the air, added to knowing that he was missing out on so much back home. It boiled over, and he was all but screaming at her and his dad.

Shame welled up in Django now. He'd made a fool of himself and his father. It would be in the papers tomorrow, a small article on Beppo Brown and the breakdown his fifteen-year-old son had. Django sunk into his seat. He just wanted to go _home_, and hang out with his friends and maybe even paint with them. The Unpainted Desert remained that way since his, Phineas & Ferb's painting was washed away.

"Are you okay, Django?"

He jumped, surprised, and glanced at his father. Beppo kept his eyes on the street, but he'd spoken.

Django debated lying for a bit, before he decided that his father would be able to tell. "No," he muttered. "Not right now. It's just… It's not really you, Dad, it's…" he trailed off, struggling to find words. "I'm just sick of it. I hate having a different bed every night during summer, I hate not being able to hang out with my friends, and I hate that I hate this!"

"That was wordy." Beppo said.

"I _know_ you love it, and it's what earns us money, but I'd like to just stay _home_ once in a while! I want to go _home_!" He was whining now, and pouting, but he wasn't about to cry or anything.

His dad pulled into the hotel's parking lot without a word, and Django was starting to feel like he was just being a hormonal teenager when his dad reached across the car and hugged him. It was a little uncomfortable, with the armrests between them, but Django hugged him back, wondering why his dad _was_ hugging him.

"I'm sorry, Django."

"For what?"

His dad let go of him and smiled sadly. "I didn't know this all bothered you so much. I can't cancel the thing tomorrow, but we can go home after that, alright?"

"I—Really?" Django shook his head, only half believing his father. "W-we should compromise or something, right? Maybe every other summer?" Adults did that, right? Compromise?

Beppo ruffled his son's hair. "Probably not. But how about only half the summer, then?"

"Deal." It sounded much better than the whole two months. Actually, it sounded nice. He unlocked the car door and stepped outside. The air was downright freezing, but he still peeked back into the much-warmer car. "And Dad? I'm sorry for freaking out like that."

Beppo shrugged. "Critics know what buttons to push. I saw red plenty of times when I was just starting." He smiled broader and clapped a hand on Django's shoulder. "You can tell me anything, you know. I'm not going to get mad at you for feeling miserable."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"Sorry." He added after a moment, breaking into a grin. Beppo laughed. "Let's go set up that easel. I bet you want to get some painting done."

"I'd rather sleep." Django yawned, as if to emphasize this, but he was really was exhausted. "I'll be an angsty artist tomorrow, thank you." After a long moment, he added, "Really Dad, thanks." and Beppo laughed as they made their way back to the room with a quick promise of a monster movie if he wasn't _too_ exhausted.


	5. Expectations

Word Count: 1,216

I like lesser known characters. Not that this one has any, but the last one did. :D  
>Based on the Guess that was Phineas &amp; Candace's father was an architect, who died in an accident. Did I ever mention that these were going to vary between dark and happy? Well, I did now.<p>

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><p><em><strong>#33 (Expectations)<strong>_  
>Linda didn't build up her son's perception of his father on purpose. Candace was a bit more realistic when she was younger (now though, Linda worried about her) and her image of her father was much closer to the real thing. Phineas had a big imagination and loved to have fun, so he took the few things that he knew about his father and ran with them. To him, Phoenix was a hero, a hard-working, never-give-up kind of guy. (which were both mostly true, but he was human, and he had days where he didn't even want to get out of bed)<p>

It wasn't that she kept anything from the two of them – but how do you explain to your young son that his father was dead? And you couldn't easily do that, there never seemed to be a right time to tell Phineas. She couldn't just go up to him now – at twelve, Phineas was probably the most cheerful person she would ever know – and say, "Hey, do you want to know how your father died?"

After he'd died, and after everything started to be okay again, Linda resolved not to tell him or Candace what happened until they asked about it. Besides that, she'd answered whatever questions they had as truthfully as possible. Phoenix was an architect. He loved music and was good at it. He worked hard. And there were always the little things she added on to in her mind. He had red hair, which Candace inherited. He wanted to learn how to play the bagpipes. He liked cop shows. He was obsessive, but he always took time off his work for his family.

Lawrence had helped her through his death and the aftermath of it. He really hadn't been her friend beforehand (in fact, Vivian liked him more than she did at the time) but she got to know him when he tried to help. Apparently his wife had left him after she had their son.

"It's not the same thing," He'd mumbled, blushing, "but I know how you feel."

But as they grew, the questions didn't come. At least, not the ones that she was afraid of answering. At one point, they would. She knew that. But her own expectations had built up by now.

Suffice to say, she was a little caught off guard when she came home from her cooking class to find Ferb sitting on the sofa, the television on mute and colorful characters dancing across the scene, and her son (step-son, really, but he might as well be her son) sitting with a photo album in his lap.

"Ferb, honey?" She was a little confused, and a small part of her was worried. Where was Phineas?

"He went to Isabella's." Ferb stated, as if he read her mind. He glanced back at the photo album. Linda set her purse on the counter before sitting next to her green-haired son, who was still studying the pictures.

The later ones were few and far between. There were a few pictures of them – at Tiana's wedding, Candace dancing with Jeremy, Tiana hugging her nephews and niece, and Phineas and Ferb laughing at some joke that Linda couldn't remember now. Before that were Candace and Jeremy at that ball with the long name, and a few before that from past birthdays, Lawrence and Linda's wedding, and a few just because. Wordlessly, like everything he did, Ferb flipped through the pages back to the old ones.

The pictures were faded and some crinkled, but suddenly Linda was looking at herself, fourteen years younger and holding up a one-year-old Candace. Underneath it was, unmistakably Phoenix's handwriting. _Candace Gertrude, One year old today!_ Followed by the date and day. Underneath it was a picture of him, holding Candace up to the camera, frosting smeared across his face.

Ferb flipped a few pages back, and paused at the wedding pictures. There was Tiana, sixteen years younger, in her bridesmaid dress. And Vivian and Jack, who'd been dating at the time (it was right before Jack met Janet, who he married shortly after he and Vivian broke up) and then there were her parents and Phoenix (a picture, Linda knew, that was taken by Tiana). More and more pictures filled the pages, showing Linda the past she rarely looked at now, but thought of often.

She was happy with her life. She wasn't _glad_ Phoenix had died, but she was thankful that she had Lawrence, and Phineas and Candace and Ferb, too.

"His name was Phoenix." Linda said quietly, hardly thinking. The silence, which she was used to around Ferb, suddenly seemed too much. "Before Lawrence, he was…" He was what? Her husband? The love of her life? Those were both true, but how was she to explain this to Ferb, whose father was the love of her life now.

Ferb glanced at her, and she smiled sadly. She didn't have to explain it – Ferb was intuitive. "He died," She said, even quieter, wondering if this was how Ferb asked questions, or if he'd just been reading the photo album because his brother was at Isabella's.

"He was an architect. He always said 'safety second', which sounded silly until he said 'Family's first'." She laughed a little, more to herself, remembering Phoenix with his hard had and dirty face from working. "He worked with everyone else. He didn't just give directions. He liked to be a part of things.

"But he fell. An accident. You and Phineas were only a year old." She sighed. "They've never really asked about him." She was sure it wasn't that they didn't care, only that they never thought of it. Phineas probably didn't remember Phoenix, except for the pictures. Candace was a little too wrapped up in her life and the boy's to give it a thought.

"They think about him." Ferb said, surprising her. He was looking up at her, the photo album still lying open on his lap. He said it simply, as if he was talking about the weather. "They miss him, too, but you don't talk about him often." It wasn't said unkindly, but he had a point.

"Maybe I should," She said. "Talk about him a little more, then." They were old enough, now, to understand it a little better. To learn a little more about where they came from. She hugged her son close, smiling even though half of her felt like crying.

"He must've been a nice guy." Ferb stated after a moment. "If he's anything like Candace and Phineas."

Despite herself, she laughed. "He was." For a moment, she thought about how odd it was that she'd wound up talking about Phoenix to Ferb, instead of the kids who were actually related to him. Part of her wanted to say something about Ferb's mother, but Lawrence didn't talk of her too often, and she had no idea how she could claim that a woman who'd left her husband and son like that _kind_.

Her expectations had been very, very off. She smiled anyways, and said, "You want to see some baby pictures?"

He grinned.

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><p>Critique? Mistakes? Love it? Hate it? Tell me. :)<p> 


	6. Memory

_Word Count: 1214**  
><strong>_...This one bothers me for some reason. :\  
>I feel like this took too long, too, and I keep missing episodes. D:<br>I don't own these characters, or else I'd be rich.

And, if you guys have any ideas, feel free to tell me. :)

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><p><em><strong>11. Memories<strong>_

Every now and then, Perry missed being human.

He wished for the time when he had two legs instead of four, when he ate pizza instead of bugs, when his thumbs were real thumbs, not a genetic change in his platypus body. He has yet to really regret changing, but he misses his old self from time to time.

It's the memories that get him, sometimes.

He didn't have any kids – he was only twenty-one when the OWCA brought up the idea of turning their agents into animals and putting them through training like that to promise maximum secret-identity keeping. He never married, not that he was too upset about that. The memories that nagged at him, pulled at that part of him that was determined to not regret turning into an animal were the ones from when he was younger, when he babysat the Flynn's during summer.

Linda used to have some job during the summer, Perry couldn't recall it now, but she was always gone from seven in the morning to five in the evening from May to August, and that was where Perry came in. She was one of few people to trust him after his sister was arrested. Danville was a close-knit city; most everyone knew the Flynn-Fletcher's and their friends. Phineas and Ferb had a liking for _people_, for playing and inventing, and when they were younger they just snatched everyone's hearts from the moment they spoke.

"You've been through a lot," Linda had said when he showed up for the jog offer of babysitter. Perry remembered thinking '_understatement of the year'_ and even remembered considering saying it, but he wisely kept his mouth shut and listened to her. Phineas and Ferb loved their legos and blocks, don't mess with their legos and blocks. They love Little Duffer's and their dog, Bucky, but Bucky can't eat anything but regular dog food. Little things that Linda told him that stuck with him, even then as a teenager and taking care of two children he hardly knew.

Bucky didn't like him much at first, but that wasn't too much of a problem. The kids, sans Candace, loved him. Ferb was quiet, and Phineas never stopped talking. Perry remembered being amazed that the kid had no end to his questions or ideas. He even came up with theories, for Pete's sake, about who Perry really was and where he came from.

"I bet you're a secret agent, and we're your targets. You want us to be spies too, right? That's why you're here, isn't it?" Perry was a secret agent then, before Carl and Monogram's promotion, before he was turned into a platypus. Phineas had the idea right, minus the targets.

It was really just an extra job, to look a little more normal and get a little more pay. Most of his pay went towards a college fund (that he never used). At the time, Phineas and Ferb were two kids he watched during summer, sometimes took to Little Duffer's and bought corn dogs for. They weren't dangerous, and while they could be trained to be secret agents, it wasn't why Perry was there.

"Of course, kid." Perry ruffled Phineas's hair and then told him to construct a lego spaceship for his mother to surprise her after she came home from work.

Lawrence was there too, a little more often during the summer days than Linda was, but he was often busy. He was kind to Perry, glad that his son and step-son had a friend, even if he wasn't their age.

Candace was less than enthusiastic about having a babysitter. She often avoided him unless she needed help on homework or reaching things on higher shelves. Most of the time, Stacey and Jenny were over with her or she was over at one of their houses, always with her phone handy just in case.

Honestly, she reminded him of his sister, before everything went down the drain, before she gave up on being a better person.

He clearly remembered his last few days as a human, talking to Phineas who _still_ had questions for him after so long of his being there, and Ferb, who obviously knew something was wrong but wouldn't bring it up, and Candace, who was busy with some crush and giggling with her friends over every little thing he did.

Monogram explained the basics. He'd be an animal, but he'd be able to walk and move like a human. His memories would be kept intact; he wouldn't be able to speak, but it would help him with secrecy and protecting the people of Danville.

Perry's been protecting people all his life. It started with his brother and sister after mom left and dad died, continued with those stupid twins from his high school and that depressed girl from his art class, even Doofenshmirtz before he quit the Agency, and then Phineas and Ferb and Candace. He had plenty of reasons to stay a human, but quite a few for volunteering for the program.

He remembered forcing a smile at Linda, the guilt gnawing at him because this was a horrible time to be leaving, right after Bucky died. The kids were six years old, and didn't completely understand death, but they knew Bucky, who they visited at Kindly Old Man Simmons, was not going to come back. He couldn't have chosen a worse time, he knew, but he also knew that Linda and Lawrence would be taking the kids to find a pet.

"A unique pet," Lawrence said once, and Candace had agreed instantly (her mood deflated when Phineas and Ferb picked out a platypus. "They don't _do_ anything!" She'd argued, crossing her arms over her chest.)

Perry knew they wanted a pet. A unique pet, a young pet, and that's exactly what he would look like tomorrow. He supposed it was nice to keep his name after Phineas and Ferb picked him up. Perry figured that Linda told them that Perry wouldn't be around anymore, and they decided to name their new pet after their old babysitter. Maybe they just liked the name Perry.

"Male platypi have poisonous spurs on the back of their feet," The shopkeeper told them. "But this guy's hade them removed. He's completely safe."

Except for the fact that he was really an agent trained in hand-to-hand combat even in platypus form. He knew one hundred different ways to disarm someone, how to dismantle bombs, how to calm down a person with a weapon. That last one was actually pretty hard to do without human vocal chords, but he learned quickly to say a lot with his expression.

It was mostly to protect people better. He was safer this way, too. Not many would suspect someone's mindless pet to actually be an agent.

But Perry went through with it because he cared about the Flynn-Fletchers, and two kids with such active imaginations and suck good building skill at _six_ years old could easily get hurt. Candace too. Linda was out of the house often, even when she wasn't at work. (She wasn't neglectful, quite the opposite, she just seemed to run out of food often, and have a lot of random .)

Perry missed being human from time to time, but regretting it didn't come along with wishing for his thumbs.


End file.
